Come Back for Me by Sharon Hart-Green

Author:Sharon Hart-Green
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: University of Toronto Press
Published: 2017-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

19

Suzy Kohn

Toronto, Ontario

June 1969

University acceptance letters were already being delivered, so I thought it was strange that Fin didn’t say a word about which school he hoped to attend. In fact, whenever I raised the topic, he grimaced and treated it as a worthless topic of conversation. He wasn’t interested in formal education, he said, and planned to hitchhike through Europe instead. More and more, he tried to convince me to do the same. “How can you learn anything about the real world by sitting in a lecture hall? You’ve gotta live it, not study it.”

I agreed with him in theory. Yet knowledge gained from books and professors appealed to me and I tried to defend the benefits of higher education as best I could. Besides, Fin hadn’t exactly asked me to come with him on his European adventure. He just thought I should value the idea of it as much as he did.

Our final school prom was about to take place and though Fin and I mocked it as shallow and pretentious, we decided at the last minute to attend—but not in the usual prom style. We put together outfits from things we’d picked up at a thrift store on Queen Street, along with the remains from past Halloween costumes. Fin donned an old tuxedo jacket with tails, which he wore along with his blue jeans. Coupled with a top hat and pince-nez glasses, he looked like the Count of Monte Cristo in denims. I sewed some picture-frame wire into the hem of an old bridal dress and transformed it into a hoop-skirted ball gown à la Scarlett O’Hara. I’d also dug up a cream-coloured umbrella, which I trimmed with lace to create a makeshift parasol. When we arrived at the school, Fin suggested that we go around to the back of the building before going in. In a secluded corner behind the darkened windows of the auditorium, he pulled a small plastic bag from the back pocket of his jeans, took some weed from the bag, and skilfully rolled a few joints. He was just about to light up when he removed his top hat with a flourish and bowed to me. “Mademoiselle, will you join me in some finely cultivated marijuana? Methinks it will add to the surrealism of the experience.”

“Much obliged,” I replied giddily. “Your wish is my command.”

Fin and I made quite the pair. Making our entrance, we swooshed our way through the school gym and onto the dance floor. Gasps and squeals spread throughout the room as everyone pushed closer to the dance floor to get a good look at us. Boisterous laughter and excitement surrounded us. We revelled in it. Mr. McCurdy, the school vice-principal—a bald, vinegar-faced man in his fifties who looked as if he’d been born with a ruler up his back—came over and made a dry remark about our “interesting attire.” He then asked Fin to step outside with him; I insisted on going too and followed them into the foyer.

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